


Sick of Losing Soulmates

by BuckyAndDanno



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: AU, Buck Can See Ghosts, Dark, Depression, Ghost!DannyWilliams, Ghost!JayHalstead, Ghost!LeslieShay, Ghost!SteveMcGarrett, Grief, Inspired a little by Ghost Whisperer, Inspired by Sick of Losing Soulmates by Dodie, Loss, M/M, Major Character Death - Non 9-1-1 Characters, Past Buck/Danny/Steve (Platonic), Past Buck/Jay, Post-Lawsuit (9-1-1 TV), Very Heavy Angst, buddie, heavy angst with a happy ending, please read with care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 06:28:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29870550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckyAndDanno/pseuds/BuckyAndDanno
Summary: Post-Lawsuit AU. Evan Buckley can see ghosts. It’s nowhere near as fun as it sounds, and he’s really getting tired of losing the people he loves.X-Over with Chicago Fire/PD and Hawaii Five-0 characters (not tagged as it's very much a 9-1-1 fic).Warning for MCD of non 9-1-1 characters (See tags).
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Jay Halstead (Past)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 159





	Sick of Losing Soulmates

**Author's Note:**

> So I was flicking around on Youtube earlier this week and saw a brilliant fanvid called ‘sick of losing soulmates evan buckley’ by wnterfiire, which got me very emotional, made me want to write a very emotional Buck piece, and also got me obsessed with the song Sick of Losing Soulmates by Dodie, which all then inspired this piece. I don’t know whether they’re on AO3, but I just wanted to say thank you for such a beautiful vid.
> 
> Of course, I had to make it both one of my epic crossover pieces, and hella angsty. I really hope you enjoy it.  
> Some inspiration is taken from Ghost Whisperer also, and scenes/dialogue from Hawaii Five-0 10x22 briefly appear.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own 9-1-1, Chicago Fire, Chicago PD, Hawaii 5-0, or Ghost Whisperer. I also don’t own Sick of Losing Soulmates by Dodie, which inspired this fic, whose title is used as the title of the fic, and words from which are used contextually within the dialogue and descriptions.
> 
> Warnings: Major content warning for Major Character Death (In the past and no-one from the 118, but it’s still very present), grief, depression, substance abuse, swearing and a whole slew of just dark angstyness. Please read with care, and if you are struggling, speak to a friend, family member, or trained professional.

His team at the 118 might have once been shocked to know that Evan Buckley actually started his first responder career in law enforcement.

_Might have_ and _once_ being the key words though.

Since he’d filed a lawsuit against his Captain, Robert Nash, for unfairly keeping him back from the job he’d rightly earned, they didn’t care much about anything to do with him these days.

They didn’t care that he’d only done it to get back to them, back to his family, because they were all that he had.

They didn’t care that he’d only done it because he couldn’t bare the idea of not having their backs, and losing them as a result.

They didn’t know that he’d only done it because he couldn’t be haunted by any more of his losses.

Literally.

As in four spectral beings were currently playing phantom poker at his dining table like they had every reason to be there.

Maybe they did, Evan thinks as he watches them banter casually, wide smiles on each of their faces.

After all, without them he truly would be alone.

He takes another sip of his beer, gaze lingering softly upon them from his position sat at the base of the loft’s staircase; thoughts running away with him, through the open window and into the cold night air.

“Penny for your thoughts, kid?”

He blinks, and Steve has moved from the table to come to stand in front of him, gazing down with concern in his ethereal blue eyes.

“You don’t have any money, Steve.” Danno shouts back with a grin, and were he feeling more his usual self, Buck might have laughed.

“’m fine.” He mumbles softly, taking another drink.

“Don’t make me take it away.” Steve says softly.

“You also don’t have hands!”

“Can it, Danno.” Steve yells back with his own grin, mirth escaping him in a small chuckle before he sobers and turns back to Buck. “Evan?”

He remembers the day they met like it was only that morning; sun beating down on his bare arms as he mixed the fourteenth mojito in an hour.

**The floral shirt he wore had been sticking uncomfortably to his back, Honolulu boasting an 81 degree afternoon.**

**The hotel he worked at was backed onto the beautiful Waikiki beach, and it was honestly the best job he’d had since leaving his parents. Work days were spent chatting to so many different, interesting people, mixing drinks and having poke and shave ice for lunch, and then days off spent in the ocean, surfing.**

**For the 22 year old ex-Navy SEAL, he didn’t think life could get any better.**

**Yes, he missed the days of traveling with his team, seeing so many different places and working to make the world a better place, but the phantom twinge in his lower back – the knowledge that he was lucky to be alive, to walk – always reminds him that there’s other things out there.**

**So, being that he wasn’t spending a good chunk of his time being shot at, yeah, this was definitely the best job he’d had since leaving Hershey.**

**That very day however, is where fate decides to bring him back to where he truly belongs; back to bringing down the bad guys and saving lives.**

**He has five minutes left before lunch, already dreaming of the poke bowl he knows he’s going to get, when he hears it; the piercing scream of patrons as a knife wielding man leaps up the small wall separating the pool area from the beach, racing across the lounge area. Several steps behind him, two men in tac-vests are chasing after him, guns drawn.**

**Buck acts without thought as the man passes by the bar area, sliding over the polished wood and tackling him with every ounce of his strength. The man growls and fights beneath him, though he’s no match for Buck’s size and muscular arms pining him down.**

**A moment later the two men in tac-vests approach, the taller brunette roughly pulling the man up from Buck’s grasp and slapping cuffs on him, while the shorter blonde slips an arm through Buck’s to help him up.**

**“That was either pretty brave, or pretty stupid.” He says softly as Buck gets to his feet, a Jersey tang to his words.**

**“I usually err on the side of stupid.” Buck grins.**

**“At least you admit – ” The blonde’s words trail off as his eyes lock onto Buck’s shoulder. “Shit.”**

**Buck follows his gaze, pain blooming with a sudden sharpness as he notices the knife handle jutting out just below his shoulder blade. “Oh.”**

**The blonde is quick to switch on his radio. “Tani? I’m gonna need medical to Waikiki Sun hotel.”**

**“Four minutes out.” Comes the reply, as the brunette turns from interrogating the cuffed man, panic filling his eyes as they lock onto the blonde.**

**“Danno?”**

**“It’s for the kid, Steve.” Danno replies, taking hold of Buck and manoeuvring him into the nearest chair.**

**Buck just laughs. “Honestly? I’ve had worse. Think this is the third metal object that’s decided to impale me in the 22 years I’ve lived.”**

**Steve gives him a surprised but approving look at that, grin tugging at his lips, while Danno’s eyes widen in horror.**

**“What the hell have you been doing, kid?”**

**Buck just shrugs. “SEAL for four years.”**

**Somehow, the grin on Steve’s face just widens, while Danno just groans. “Oh dear lord, not another one.”**

**Buck wonders if he should be wary of the way Steve is suddenly bounding on his heels like an excitable puppy. “You ever thought of joining Five-0?”**

**He hadn’t, despite the stories he’d heard of the elite team, and yet in that moment he can’t deny the thrill of excitement that drowns out even the pain in his shoulder.**

**“You making me an offer?”**

**Being with Five-0 fills the hole left in him when he’d left the SEAL’s, while keeping all the benefits Hawaii had to offer him working at the hotel; this, he decides within twenty four hours of starting, is the best job since Hershey.**

**It helps that he gels so well with the team, that he’d gained Steve’s respect that very afternoon, but what comes to mean the most to him is his relationship with Steve and Danny.**

**The married couple, just shy of ten years older than Buck, were quick to take him in, and they ended up developing a rather unusual but nonetheless beautiful relationship.**

**Platonic soulmates, Buck liked to call them.**

**Steve brought out Buck’s dangerous side, the crazy and the brave, while Danny calmed and soothed his overly anxious side that yearned to please people. Nights curled up on the couch with them watching a movie or just talking, surrounded by warmth and love and forehead kisses, are the times when he feels completely and truly at home.**

**For a short while at least, it’s nothing short of perfect.**

“Evan?”

He blinks, Steve’s face swimming amidst the tears blurring his eyes. He tries shaking away the memories that are playing in his mind like some grotesque, self-sabotaging home movie, but it’s like his brain is filled with super-glue, frozen in its unhappy state. “Mhm?” He scrubs at his eyes, at the burning behind them, and sighs.

“Talk to me, kid.” Steve says, spectral hand moving to rest just above Buck’s shoulder; the closest imitation of a hug they can get.

It’s nothing close to what he used to have, and it just makes his already shattered heart crack even further.

“Why did you have to go?” He whispers, but he’s not just looking at Steve.

He’s looking at all of them.

The weight of four pairs of sad eyes threaten to drown him right there and then, so he forces his body to move, shaky legs taking him up the stairs and into his loft bedroom. He falls flat on the bed, hugs a bunch of the comforter to his chest, and cries.

He’s gotten so used to them that he can feel Danny’s presence before he hears him.

“This isn’t about us.” The former Detective says, a slightly more solid hand – an arm – resting gently across his back. Steve wasn’t known for his patience, so it was no surprise that the former Commander hadn’t mastered the art of physical touch. For Danny it still took a lot of concentration, but he could still manage it for Buck, at the very least. “Not really.”

“It’s about everything.” Buck sobs, shaking further under Danny’s touch. “Why do the people I love always leave?”

**The day Danny died should have been one of the happiest days of his life.**

**They get the call at 4:23am that Tani has gone into labour, a frantic Junior shouting down the phone that he “doesn’t know what to do!”**

**Several minutes are spent trying to calm him down enough to A, get Tani into the car and to the hospital, B, remember her bag, and C, call ahead. Tasks completed, they promise they’ll meet him there, and set about heading to the hospital themselves.**

**“No, Governor. We won’t be available unless it’s urgent.” Steve is saying into his phone from beside Danny, who for once is getting to drive his own car. “Yes, I’ll let them know. Thank you.”**

**“Bets on boy or girl.” Buck grins from the back seat of the Camaro.**

**“Boy!” Steve grins. “I put £20 on it with Lou.”**

**“Same.” Danny laughs.**

**“You?” Buck chuckles, surprised. “Betting in the workplace?”**

**Danny shrugs. “Sometimes the rules are meant to be broken.”**

**“You mean when you and your husband are the only ones betting on a boy?”**

**“Po-tato. Poh-tato.”**

**Buck rolls his eyes, easily smile pulling at his lips. Happiness practically radiates through the car. “Tani said Gracie keeps texting her about names. Apparently Grace, Gracie, and Elizabeth are all great names.”**

**Danny barks out a laugh. “That’s my girl.”**

**They get to the hospital shortly after, but hours pass with little change to Tani’s labour, leaving the team hungry and anxious. Danny volunteers to take the Camaro and go get Kamekona’s, and it’s then that everything goes to hell.**

**Steve’s phone chimes not half an hour later, the Commander laughing down the phone, “You get lost or something, Danno?”**

**“Steve.” Danny’s voice is too tense for the jovial atmosphere in Tani’s room, and it sets them on edge immediately. “I got a crazy tail on me and they are not being discreet at all.”**

**They’re moving before they can even think; Buck, Steve and Quinn all jumping into Quinn’s car and speeding off, Steve shouting down the phone.**

**“Where are you? We’re coming.”**

**“I’m traveling east on Kapiolani, just passed University.”**

**Steve’s hand is gripped tight around the phone as they squeal out of the parking lot, “Hang on Danno,” and Buck’s heart feels like it’s lodged in his throat.**

**Then they hear the gunshots, pull up to the sight of the Camaro in flames, and everything they’d thought the day would be comes crashing down around them.**

**They leave Junior at the hospital of course, but the rest of them head back to the Palace, frantically working to find Danny. He turns out to be the prisoner of Daiyu Mei, Wo Fat’s widow, and though Steve does everything she asks, by the time they find Danny he’s in a pool of his own blood; shot in his own attempt to escape.**

**Quinn drives – Danny draped in the back over Steve and Buck’s legs, head lolling on Steve’s stomach as the elder’s arm rests beneath his back, pressing hard on the exit wound. His other hand is pressed to the front, but they both know there’s too much blood already soaking Danny’s clothing.**

**The Detective is pale and delirious, breathy moans almost too quiet to hear.**

**“Danny, stay with me.” Steve begs. “Stay with me.”**

**Buck just holds Danny’s hand tightly, begs silently for him to be okay; for him to come back to them.**

**A stuttered breath leaves Danny’s lips as they pull up to the ER, and then his chest stills.**

**It’s the first time that Buck feels his heart shatter.**

**Hours later, in the then sombre maternity room – Steve noticeably absent – is when he breaks down completely. The moment Junior brings in a tiny blue wrapped bundle and places him in Buck’s arms with the words, “We named him Daniel William Reigns. We’d love it if you’d be his godfather,” is the moment that everything in him just shatters.**

**It’s the moment that the truth hits him in the face.**

**Danny was gone, and he was never coming back.**

**They lose Steve only a handful of months later.**

**He spirals after Danny’s death, finding too many ways to try and cope and yet none of them enough. The Governor suspends him, puts Lou in charge of 5-0 with Buck as SIC, but nothing is the same.**

**The only reason Buck doesn’t spiral too is because of little Daniel, and because every night when Steve finally does come home, they hold each other in their arms and cry together.**

**The only reason he doesn’t spiral is because he knows he has to be the strong one, though it doesn’t take long at all for that to shatter just the same as his soul had.**

**Daiyu Mei escapes. She finds Steve, and Buck is the one who finds him, glassy eyes barely blinking.**

**“Hang on for me, Stevie. Please, god, hang on.” He sobs as he fumbles for his phone through blood slicked fingers; trying desperately to call for help while still putting pressure on the wound.**

**“Danno…” Steve breathes, and then his chest stills, just as Danny’s had, and Buck can feel the moment his life slips through his bloodied, numb fingers.**

**It’s the second time that Buck feels his heart shatter, cursing anyone listening for not saving him.**

**Cursing Steve for giving up.**

**Cursing Daiyu Mei for taking them both from him.**

**Cursing himself, for not being enough to save them.**

**Even after, he still tries to be the strong one; tries to keep the team – the family – together.**

**But he’s not enough. Without Steve and Danny, the team simply splinters, fractures, shatters, until Five-0 is nothing more than a whisper in the wind.**

“I’m tired of being the strong one, Danno.” Buck whispers, feeling the softness of ghostly fingers carding through his hair and leaning into it, just slightly.

“We’re proud of you, Bucky. Every single day, we’re proud of you.” There’s the light brush of lips on his forehead, the warmth of touch, and then he’s drifting off; another night of restless sleep.

He remembers the first time he saw them.

After.

**Montana was never going to be home – was never going to fill the hole that leaving Hawaii had created – but it was something.**

**Being a ranch hand was nothing like being with Five-0, but it was something.**

**That’s all he filled his days with now. Somethings and nothings. Always fleeting. Never permanent.**

**He goes through the motions, brain and body separate, working on autopilot.**

**Then he gets kicked by a scared mare, black spots covering his vision, head on fire, and then… everything changes again.**

**He’s in a coma for three days, on an ICU ward for a further week while they make sure the swelling in his brain goes down and check him for other abnormalities because, on the first morning after he wakes up, he swears he can see people who aren’t supposed to be there.**

**It starts with Steve, reclining in a chair next to the bed like he has every right to be there, concern in his eyes from the moment Buck opens his own. “You need to stop scaring me like this, kid.”**

**Buck jerks wildly, panicked eyes staring at Steve like… well, like someone who’s seen a ghost, and it only takes a moment before Steve’s expression morphs to match it.**

**“You… can see me?” He whispers, amazed, and then he’s yelling “Danno!” and disappearing through a wall.**

**Buck scrubs at his eyes over and over, sure he’s just hallucinated it, but then Steve’s returning, ethereal hand holding another, and Danny is right beside him, expression also one of shock.**

**“He can see us?”**

**Safe to say, it takes him the week to realise he’s better off denying it all and to get out of the hospital, another two to realise he really isn’t hallucinating, and a further three days before he actually speaks to them instead of ignoring them.**

**It’s not really the reunion he’d pictured, but at that moment, he realises he’s just thankful they’re there.**

**He’s thankful, at least, that he hasn’t quite lost them after all.**

**It turns out Danny had been watching them both, and then he and Steve both watching Buck, before his head injury broke the strange wall between them; between the living and the dead.**

**He asks them once why they hadn’t moved on.**

**Danny simply says, “How could we, when a part of us is still here?”**

**He doesn’t ask again, simply revels in the warmth of their presence, in the knowledge that they’re there every night as he goes to bed, even if he can no longer feel them.**

**For another two years at least, he’s somewhat okay.**

They’re all gone when he wakes, but he’s been used to their presences long enough now that he doesn’t ask where they go when they’re not with him.

Even the afterlife, it seems, is not all that simple, but they only tell him what he needs to know.

They’re okay, and they’re here for him.

Everything else is kind of moot point.

He scrubs the rest of the sleep from his eyes, puts on a pot of coffee, and reluctantly starts his morning routine before his shift.

He’s not really sure why he still bothers all that much with his weights and yoga every morning, being that he hasn’t been on the truck in months, but perhaps it’s force of habit.

Or maybe, he’s just hoping for the day when they decide they finally forgive him.

He feels somewhat refreshed and ready to go at least by the time he locks his front door and gets into the truck, heading off to the 118. Shay joins him half way through the drive – popping into existence in the passenger seat between one moment and the next.

He’s lived with them long enough that he doesn’t flinch anymore.

“You feeling okay, Bucky?”

He gives her a brief smile as he comes to a stop at an intersection. “I’m fine, Shay-Shay.”

“You sure about that?” She raises a brow, giving him the patented big-sister stare.

“Shay…”

“You can’t keep letting them treat you like this.” She says softly, hand ghosting over his knee. “It’s not right.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” He asks her, looking away as the light turns green. “Run again?”

“Kelly – ”

“Is in Chicago.” He shakes his head. “You know I won’t go back there.”

“But if LA isn’t home anymore.”

“Neither is Chicago. Or Hawaii.” He snaps. “How can they be, when I keep losing the people I love?”

She sighs softly as he comes to the station, pulling up to park. “We’re still here.”

He doesn’t answer.

She follows him around most of the day, even though he’s still stuck doing the same old chores, but at the very least, it’s company.

Unlike those at the 118, she doesn’t glare at him or spew nasty remarks. She certainly doesn’t look at him like a burden.

At the very least, she keeps him sane, even throughout the monotony of the same day repeating itself over and over like clockwork.

Except, today Simmons clocks out three hours early with a stomach bug, leaving the truck a man down, just as the bell rings for a 2 alarm fire.

There’s a brief moment where Bobby glances at him, weighs his decisions, and then, “Buckley, in the truck.”

Buck blinks, scrambles up from the apparatus floor, dropping the cleaning equipment from his hands and grabs his gear. The tension inside the truck is palpable, thick and heavy and almost too much even for the short journey, but Buck can think only one thing.

_I can be useful._

_I can show them I belong._

_I can prove myself._

The fire is already raging by the time they arrive and he’s reluctantly paired with Mitcham, Simmons’ usual partner. Thankfully Mitcham is one of the few who hasn’t shown outright disdain for Buck, and they manage to work well together as they scout the second and then the third floor of the building for survivors.

They get a couple out, plus a young man, and then they’re finishing a final sweep when Buck hears it; the cry of a child.

In that instant he knows what he has to do.

_I have to prove myself._

He ignores the yell from Bobby to evacuate, from Mitcham to stay together, ignores the burning in his thighs and his chest and pushes forward, racing into the burning room, calling out.

He finds her huddled in a closet, and then the whole building is one big blur of flame as he finds them a way out, as he races towards safety.

The ceiling above them creaks, snaps, a thick wooden beam hitting him directly, knocking his helmet clear and thudding onto his skull. Pain bursts behind his eyelids as he falls, clutching the child tightly, and it takes everything in him to get back up again, to move.

The floor sways beneath him, unsteady legs carrying them slowly but surely to the exit. He can barely see beyond the smoke and the blur, but he can recognise the red and blue lights flashing from the trucks and the squad cars, can hear the cries of his fellow first responders.

He can hear Steve pushing him forward, Shay directing him, Danny telling him to hold on a little longer.

He can hear Jay, telling him he loves him.

Then he’s collapsing on the concrete, flecks of stone and other debris digging into his knees as someone takes the child from him. He can barely breathe, chest heaving, but he’s surrounded by the people he loves, even as his body lolls backwards, and he hits the floor with a dull thud.

His four people, his soulmates in so many ways, circle around him – concern and love and safety and warmth and family – and he feels okay.

He doesn’t feel scared anymore.

“I’m ready.” He whispers to them, feeling the darkness encroaching bit by bit. “I’m ready to come home.”

Shay shakes her head, “You’re not home yet, sweetie,” and then they’re fading away, replaced by a teary eyed Eddie and a frantic Bobby, by Hen and Chim pushing away their own concern to assess him, to talk to him, to keep him awake.

But he’s so tired.

So very tired.

“J’s le…me go.” He mumbles.

“No, Evan.” Eddie’s voice is firm, cutting through the fuzziness in his brain. “You’re not leaving us. I’m not letting you go.”

He remembers a time when those words had come from his own lips – knows how much it hurts – but he knows they’ll be okay.

Wasn’t that why they’d stopped caring, after all?

They were fine without him.

“L’me go…” He repeats, and then the darkness is pulling him under.

He remembers losing Shay every time they go to an industrial fire.

**A minor injury had side-lined him from Squad for a few weeks but with him still cleared to work in some capacity, and with Dawson moving into Candidacy, Boden had put him on the rig with Shay.**

**Buck had been more than happy to experience another side to being a first responder, and was learning quickly with his surrogate-big-sister’s help.**

**He’s nearing the end of his second week on the Ambo when they get called to a 3 alarm fire at an industrial site, and Buck’s heart is beating so loudly in his chest as he watches his brothers and sisters enter the building, unable to physically help them and watch their backs.**

**He stands back with Shay, watches as Squad starts pulling people out, helps triage and treat, but then they’re being called inside themselves for a spinal injury victim.**

**Buck grabs the C-Collar while Shay grabs the board, and then they’re in. The next few minutes are a blur as they locate their victim and start treatment, and then the whole building rumbles, an explosion rocking the air, and everything goes black.**

**When he wakes, Shay is lying beside him, unmoving.**

**“Shay?” He taps her shoulder.**

**Nothing.**

**“Shay?” Panic sets in a second later, peeling back her eyelids, dusty penlight in hand as he prays for a response. No movement.**

**He rubs his knuckles on her sternum. Nothing.**

**Checks her pulse.**

**Nothing.**

**Buck jerks backward, choked cry ripping from his lips.**

**“No… No, no no.” He pushes himself back up onto his knees, hands interlocking as he presses down hard on her chest, counting, praying, begging for her to breathe. “Just breathe, Shay, breathe for me!”**

**Then he sees her, stood by the entry way as Kelly comes rushing inside, echoes of tears trailing down her cheeks as she watches him; watches Kelly try the same.**

**“You’re not leaving us!” He cries at her. “I’m not letting you go!”**

**But she’s already gone. He can see that with his own eyes, even if he wants nothing more than to remain suspended in disbelief.**

**Even if he refuses to believe that he’s lost someone else that he loves.**

He wakes to the familiar sight of off white ceiling tiles and the smell of disinfectant, to a hand wrapped around his all too tightly.

He sees Eddie, slumped in a hard plastic chair beside the bed, hand clutching Buck’s for dear life. The other man’s eyes are barely open – forced to stay awake through fear but wanting nothing more than to sleep away the worry – but the second he feels Buck move, they’re jerking open.

“Buck…”

A few anxious, awkward moments pass as Buck tries to speak, coughs at the intense dryness of his throat, and is handed a few ice chips. He lets them melt slowly on his tongue, savouring the coolness as it sooths his throat, and then looks back at Eddie.

“Wh…” He licks his lips again.

“What happened?” Eddie asks, light frown tugging at his lips, gaze still hooded with worry. It actually takes Buck aback, to see anything other than disdain directed at him by the man he’d once called his best friend.

The man he was also in love with.

He shakes his head, ignoring the jolt that the movement sends down his neck. “Why… are you… here?” His chest aches, most likely from smoke inhalation, he guesses, and every breath feels a little like he’s underwater.

Eddie jerks a little at the question, worry giving way to hurt and remorse; something that takes Buck aback even more. “I was scared.” He whispers, and Buck feels like it’s an answer to more than just that moment, but he scarcely has the energy to think right now.

“’m fine.” Buck mumbles. “Girl… okay?”

“You almost weren’t.” Eddie snaps, ignoring the question. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” Buck snaps back, even as he feels his energy deplete almost immediately. “I haven’t been… doing much of anything for… for a while. Had… to prove…”

“Buck…”

“Why… did you save me?” He doesn’t look at Eddie as he questions him, gaze focused instead on the four figures at the back of the room; each one watching him with looks of pure concern. He watches Steve’s lips pull into a frown, sees how Danny’s hand clenches around the bottom of his not-shirt, how Jay grips onto Shay and she onto him.

“Why did I…?” Eddie looks at him in disbelief. “Why the hell did you want to give up?”

Buck tears his gaze from all of them, blinking listlessly up at the ceiling. “’m tired, Eddie. Tired of… not being enough…” Several beats pass, punctuated by the rhythmic wheeze of his breathing, and then he slips his gaze back to Eddie. “’m tired of being left behind.”

Back at the ceiling as sleep drags him back under, exhausted body wishing only for a reprieve, however brief.

“’m tired… of losing the people… I love…”

He’s released two days later – O2 sats back to normal, mild concussion having abated, and with ten stitches to be removed at a later appointment.

All in all, it could have been worse, and it’s maybe only that which prevents both Danny and Shay from ripping into him about personal care habits.

Despite their near constant presence at the hospital, he doesn’t call anyone from the 118. It had been too awkward, especially after his words with Eddie. There was so much left unsaid, so much that needed to be said, but he couldn’t bring himself to face it.

He’s not sure if he ever can.

Everything feels so loose and broken, crumbling once again around him, and he’s left with that all too familiar feeling to just run.

Fortunately or unfortunately, he’s not allowed to drive for another week, or fly, and he still feels too tired and weak to run.

So he walks until his feet can’t carry him any longer, finds himself at the pier, and just lets himself lean on the railing, watching the steady roll of the waves.

A soft, light hand slips into his, and Buck just sighs. “You were the worst you know?” He turns slightly, meeting emerald eyes – less vibrant in death but just as beautiful as Buck remembered. “I wanted to marry you.”

Jay just smiles sadly, and they both turn to the waves. “I wanted to marry you too, angel.”

**Meeting Detective Jay Halstead had been one of the best parts of Chicago, however brief and short lived their happy ever after became.**

**He and Kelly Severide, his Squad Lieutenant, had been assigned to work with Jay and Haley Upton on several arson cases, and had quickly become good friends with the pair. It hadn’t taken long at all for Buck and Jay to develop feelings for one another, or to admit them, and pretty soon they were in a committed relationship.**

**A year after they first met, Jay proposed.**

**Buck wouldn’t have dreamt of saying any answer other than yes.**

**They get to be fiancés for two weeks and three days before Jay gets assigned a deep cover assignment.**

**One month.**

**No contact.**

**It’s one of the hardest times of Buck’s life, but he muddles through it with help from his friends. Until one evening, as Buck is making dinner, when he catches sight of a very familiar figure by the living room door.**

**“Jay!”**

**He hadn’t even heard the man come in, but his sudden happiness trumps any rational thought as he grins over at his fiancé.**

**Jay doesn’t reply, blinking eyes confused as they lock onto Buck, and it takes Buck several moments to realise why.**

**He notices Shay first, across the room, hand gripping Danny’s arm and tears in her eyes.**

**Then he looks back at Jay, and he knows why the image seems wrong – out of place.**

**Jay’s feet aren’t touching the floor – off the ground by an inch or so – his body shimmering just slightly in the lamplight.**

**Ghost things – things that Buck had taken a long while to realise when it came to seeing the dead but that he now could single out where needed.**

**Things that brought the truth into focus with as much subtlety as a cement truck ploughing through his front room.**

**“No…” He whispers, body sagging immediately, legs giving way. He sinks to the floor with a thud, hand still gripped on the marble countertop as he stares at Jay in disbelief and dread. “No, no, no, no, no…”**

**Shay’s arms are around him in an instant, but the usual warmth of them is replaced by an all-encompassing numbness that fills his entire body.**

**And then he shatters entirely – everything that had been left of him after Danny, and Steve, and Shay, becoming nothing more than dust – scream ripping from him like a banshee.**

**He’s a whirlwind of anger and grief, rational mind blacking out as he rips and breaks and claws at everything he can get his hands on.**

**Then he’s sinking back to the floor, reduced to nothing more than heaving sobs and barely caught breaths as Jay whispers, “I’m sorry.”**

**Voight doesn’t ask why the apartment was trashed before he even got to the door.**

**Even wouldn’t offer an answer, anyway.**

**Just like Hawaii, Chicago isn’t home after that.**

“Buck.”

It’s a different voice that calls to him as he’s pulled from memory, one that roughly centres him in the present.

He turns, spotting Eddie heading toward him, and sighs. “Why are you here?” The sky has turned to a cerulean hue now, stretching dark and wide like the ocean; a blue abyss.

“You’ve been here for hours, Buck.” Eddie responds, and he can see the familiar lights of the engine at the other end of the pier. “People got worried.”

“Nothing to worry about.” He responds softly, turning back to the ocean, hand still in Jay’s. “Just thinking.”

“About?” Eddie comes to stand next to him, unknowingly taking Jay’s place as the spirit dissipates.

Buck tries not to feel the loss as his hand flexes around cold air. “A lot of things.” He shrugs. “A lot of people.” A moment passes, and then he turns to Eddie and sighs. “Why are you here?” He repeats, more forceful this time. “Between this and the hospital, it’s the longest you’ve spoken to me in weeks.”

“Because I’m an idiot.” Eddie replies. “Because I saw the lawsuit as you pushing us away and I wanted to push you away first, so I didn’t get hurt.”

“I was trying to get back to you.” He lets his voice harden a fraction, lets his anger at them bubble just slightly amidst the guilt and the grief and everything else that wants to swallow him whole. “All of you.”

“I know.” Eddie whispers, eyes watering. “But after Shannon… I couldn’t lose someone else I cared about.”

“She was your wife.”

“And you’re my soulmate.”

It’s so unexpected, and he finds himself choking in response, tears gathering all too quickly in his eyes. “Eddie…”

“I’m not expecting you to believe me.”

“It’s not a case of not believing you Eddie.” He shakes his head, tries to steady his breathing, wishes with everything he had that Jay would come back. “It’s about trusting you.”

“I get it.” Eddie responds, turning to face him fully. “I just… I want you to know that I love you. That almost losing you again, made me realise how much of an idiot I’ve been. I thought if I pushed you away, that it wouldn’t hurt as much… but it only made it hurt more.”

“Loving people hurts.” Buck shrugs. “Losing people, doubly so.”

“You sound like you speak from experience.”

“Too much.” The tears are cascading down his cheeks now, and he scrubs at them angrily. “You’re not the only one who hates losing people Eddie.” He sighs as he realises that he’s fighting a losing battle; emotions haywire. “Guess we’re both just fucked up.”

Eddie’s hand tentatively reaches out for Buck’s. “So let’s be fucked up together.”

He lets Eddie take it, doesn’t grip himself, but doesn’t pull away either; an acceptance, albeit wary.

He’s not sure if he can trust his heart with someone else – with Eddie – again.

Yet, finally feeling Jay’s presence return behind him, a light hand on his shoulder, he wonders if the risk wasn’t just worth the reward, but the pain too.

If he hadn’t risked leaving Hershey, he wouldn’t have met Danny and Steve. If hadn’t have chanced Chicago, he never would have known Shay and Jay. If he hadn’t tried LA…

There had been pain, yes, and too much of it, but there’d been love too; laughter and happiness and hope and warmth and safety and…

Home.

Maybe LA could still be that, even now.

Eddie leads him back down the pier, and then he’s wrapped in a blanket by Chim (he hadn’t even realised he was shivering), hugged by Hen, and they’re both saying how sorry they are.

“We should have been there for you.”

“We didn’t act like family should.”

“But we are still family.” Bobby is saying then, watching Buck with those soft, fatherly eyes that had come to mean so much to the younger man. “I hope?”

“Even family fucks up sometimes.” He whispers softly, and then Bobby is pulling him into a tight hug, and Buck just melts into the embrace.

“I’m so sorry, kid.” Bobby whispers into his hair. “I was just so scared of losing you…”

He’d assumed as much, knowing Bobby’s history and how much like father and son they’d always acted, but it hadn’t made things any easier when the man had then kept him always at arm’s length.

Still, he understood. “I get it. I know how hard it is… to lose the people you love.” He sniffs against the other man’s chest. “That’s why I never wanted to lose any of you either.”

“Never, kiddo.” Bobby responds, and then Hen’s hand is warm on his shoulder.

“You’ve always got us, Buck.”

He believes them.

Bobby leads them all over to the truck, and they climb in, Buck letting his weary body rest against Eddie’s side.

The other man cards fingers through his hair, soft and steady, as he says, “Tell me about them?”

Buck doesn’t need to ask who he means.

So he does, and perhaps it’s only his imagination, but by the time they leave the truck, he thinks he feels a little lighter; like the parts of himself he thought he’d lost, are slowly piecing themselves back together.

He returns to the station a couple of days later, sliding anxiously out of Eddie’s truck and staring wide eyed at the huge banner that reads ‘We Missed You.’

“We’re hoping it’s big enough to make up for all the ones we missed.” Eddie tells him softly.

Buck gives him a little smile. “It’s perfect.” His hand tentatively finds Eddie’s, slow and unsure, but reaching to something new.

Something good.

The hand that curls around his is warm and sure, grounding, comforting, and Buck feels himself relax, if only a fraction.

They head inside to the cries of his team and other members, to well wishes and more apologies; to promises that they’re never going to let him down again.

Maybe a few weeks ago he might have struggled to believe them, but sleepless nights and relieved memories have only proven that he’s sick of losing soulmates, and his team – Eddie, and Bobby, and Chim and Hen – are that for him, in every sense of the word, and he won’t lose them again.

“We should have said it so much sooner, but…” Hen pulls him into the biggest hug, then turns him around to the table that holds the cake. “Welcome home, Buck.”

Curled red frosting reiterates the message again, and he finds himself smiling, unbidden.

Surrounded once again by the light of love, he thinks that maybe they’re right.

Maybe LA is home.

Then, his peripheral vision catching the four souls who had kept him buoyant for so long, phantom bodies flickering in the daylight, he whispers softly, “I think I’ll be okay now.”

A touch like a feather on his cheek, the words “You’re home, angel,” filling his heart, and then he watches them fade away.

They’re home, and yes, now he is too.


End file.
